Remembrance
by Elennare
Summary: Ollivander and Luna recall their captivity. Written for the Anniversary contest on the Daydverse Lj community.


Author's note: Entry for the 1st Anniversary Contest on the livejournal Daydverse community, using the prompt of birthday or anniversary. Thanks to xsabrix for the very last minute beta!

* * *

><p>A tinkling bell broke the silence of the workshop, startling the old man who was its sole occupier. Carefully setting down his work, Ollivander made his way towards the shop itself, clutching his wand handle inside his pocket. <em>'There is nothing to be scared of... it will be someone needing a wand repaired, or a new wand... maybe a student, if the holidays have started...'<em> The inner monologue was poor comfort. Two years ago, the thought that it might not be someone in need of his skills would never have occurred.

Peering carefully into the shop, he could see no one at first. Then he saw Luna Lovegood, sitting on the spindly chair he kept in a corner, half hidden by the gloom. The wandmaker's pale eyes widened. This was certainly a surprise; although they had kept in touch, he hadn't really been expecting a visit.

Releasing his wand, he stepped into the shop.

"Luna, dear child. It's good to see you again... I hope it's not because of a problem with your wand? Ivy and Unicorn hair, 9 3/4 inches?"  
>"Oh no, Mr. Ollivander, it's working perfectly."<p>

Ollivander nodded, satisfied. He had expected as much; he had put all his skill into making a wand to match her.  
>"Good, good. What can I do for you then?"<br>"Why, I came to see if you wanted to visit Dobby's grave with me."

The wandmaker started. Had a year already passed since their liberation? It must be so... he had immersed himself so deeply in his work he had lost track of time, even forgetting this anniversary. Realising he still hadn't answered Luna – who didn't seem to notice his long silence... there again, few things disturbed her – he nodded.

"Yes, that would be very nice. Fitting, too... I must just take care of a few things, if you'll wait for me."

Taking Luna's smile for the assent it was, he hurried back to his workshop and placed the wood he had been preparing back in its box. There was nothing else lying around; order and neatness had been the maxims his father had drilled him in as soon as he was old enough to understand, so many years ago now. Satisfied that everything was where it should be, he returned to the sales room. A wave of his wand closed the door and hung the 'Back soon' sign on it.

Summoning his coat, he turned to the young witch, who seemed to be examining the shelves in a distant way, and held out his arm.  
>"Shall we go?"<br>Luna took his arm lightly, and they Apparated out of the shop, reappearing near Shell Cottage.

Bracing themselves against the salty wind coming in from the sea, the odd pair walked down to the cottage's door. As Luna knocked, it occurred to the old man that they should have asked the Weasleys before coming; it was entirely possible no one would be in... His worries proved unfounded, however, as Fleur Weasley opened the door.

"Meester Ollivander, Luna, what a surprise! I was not expecting you".  
>"I'm very sorry, Mrs. Weasley, we should have contacted you before coming. I hope we aren't disturbing you? " Ollivander replied, feeling guilty.<br>"Not at all, I was onlee surprised that you should visit. And pleese, I have said it before, call me Fleur".  
>Ollivander nodded. He was not used to addressing people by their first names, but he did recall now Mrs Weas – Fleur's dislike for the more formal address.<br>Luna's soft voice spoke before he could start apologizing.  
>"Hello, Fleur. It's nice to see you again. We wanted to visit Dobby; I think he'd like it".<br>If Fleur was surprised at this, she concealed it well, simply nodding.  
>"Of course, it ees no problem. Bill will be 'ome soon, would you like to join us for lunch? "<br>"I should enjoy that, Fleur", Mr. Ollivander said.  
>"Oh, yes, that would be lovely" Luna agreed.<p>

Slowly, they walked to the end of the garden and stopped before the white headstone. For a while, they were silent, each lost in their thoughts.

Mr. Ollivander's mind was back in Malfoy Manor, remembering his first conversation with Luna.

_"Who's there?" the voice was surprisingly calm, though he could not see the girl's face in the dark cell.  
>"Mr. Ollivander. Who are you? "<br>"Luna Lovegood.".  
>The old man thought for a few seconds... no, he had never sold her a wand, though he remembered her father's first – he'd probably changed it since then.<br>"Your wand wasn't made by me". There was no accusation in the words, merely statement of fact.  
>"I don't think so... it was my mother's".<br>Ollivander remembered that wand. Not one of his, but he had been asked to examine it after Mrs. Lovegood's death. Roc feather and orangewood, 10 1/8 inches... not a core he would have chosen; he found it too fierce, and too attracted to witches and wizards of an experimental bent – precisely those in whose hands it could be dangerous. Nor did he approve of passing wands on in families; the natural affection might ensure a certain bond, but the union was rarely as strong as that between a wand and its chosen master.  
>Realising he might have disturbed the girl, he spoke again, his voice hoarse with lack of use.<br>"I'm sorry, Miss Lovegood. I hope I haven't upset you".  
>"No, it's all right. I'm sorry to have lost it, of course, but it's just a wand, after all. I don't think Mummy would mind too much."<br>Unsure what to say, the old man changed the subject, asking why she was here. His relief on learning the reason was immense; as a hostage for Xenophilius' behaviour, she would be kept alive. He didn't want to see another cellmate taken away and never returned._

_Over the next few months, he came to rely on Luna more than he would ever have expected. Her serene calm, her quiet optimism, kept him from despair and insanity. Often, he would ponder what wand he might make for her, if they were released. Unicorn hair was the natural choice for a core; pure and gentle, yet strong. The correct wood was more complicated, though orangewood was certainly not the right choice. Gradually, Ivy began to assert itself in his mind. It was often associated with spiritual growth and strength; perfect for this unique child._

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Ollivander found tears in his eyes as he read the short inscription. 'Here lies Dobby, a Free Elf'. Such few words for someone to whom he owed his freedom and his life.

Quickly wiping his eyes, he glanced at Luna, wondering what she was thinking.

_Luna's first thoughts were of the cell in Malfoy Manor. She had been so worried about Daddy; she knew he would be anxious about her, and she missed him a great deal. She missed her wand, too; it had been nice to have that link to Mother. She was only slightly less concerned about the D.A. As long as her Galleon heated up every day in response to her signal, she knew they were still alive, but no other news could reach her.  
>It was silly to dwell on these memories, though. Many Dark creatures fed on unhappy thoughts. Better to remember their rescue, to remember everything Dobby had done for Dumbledore's Army. She wished he could have lived to see them win, it would have delighted him, and he would have been proud to see H.E.L.P. fighting in the battle.<br>Luna remembered the speeches after the battle, at the funerals. She didn't think she could match their grandness, but Dobby had been a hero, and he deserved one, even if only two people would hear it.  
><em>  
>"I think it would be nice to say something... Shall I?" When her friend assented, she touched the headstone and began to speak.<br>"Dobby, thank you again for being so brave and rescuing us. I wish you could have been here when we won; it would have been fair, after you helped the D.A. so much. I think you'd have enjoyed it, and you'd be happy to see Harry win. I hope you know that we did, wherever you are, and that you're happy".  
>She turned to Ollivander.<br>"Do you want to say anything?"  
>The old man hesitated.<br>"I think you said it all, my dear. Perhaps we should give him a wreath?"  
>Pulling out his wand, he conjured a ring of poppies and lowered it onto the grave. Looking at Luna, he realised she didn't seem completely happy with it.<br>"Is something wrong?"  
>"It's very pretty, but I think there's something missing". With a quick wave of her own wand, the ribbon that crossed the wreath was transfigured into a pair of socks; one poppy patterned, the other with Dobby's name.<br>"That's better" she said, smiling.  
>The gesture seemed strange to Ollivander, but it made her happy, and he supposed Luna knew best.<br>"As you wish, my dear. Shall we join the Weasleys now? "

Arm in arm, they returned to Shell Cottage in friendly silence, both thinking of the brave elf who had freed them, a year ago that day.


End file.
